Asylum Kids
by Randomonium
Summary: PLEAD INSANITY: Instead of prison, you get hell. At least the company is entertaining. ShikaTema; AU; rated because of language and imagery.
1. Bloody Hands

**Asylum Kids**

I didn't do it.

Okay, maybe I did. All the evidence points in that direction. But I don't remember doing it.

I remember wanting to kill the bitch. I remember her taunting me, provoking me as my rage built up and blurred my vision.

And I remember standing over her lifeless body with the cops closing in around me,

But I don't actually remember killing her.

I didn't really know her, but I know she killed a friend of mine. She told me.

But the police don't believe me. The jury doesn't believe me. The judge doesn't believe me. My _lawyer _doesn't fucking believe me.

I don't know if _I _believe me anymore.

The blood looked like shadows, soaking into the carpet.

I was all set to plead not guilty, but my lawyer (the bastard) took one look at the evidence, listened to my testimony, and decided to plead insanity. Or mental instability. I don't give a fuck.

So I ended up here, in some fucking institute for the criminally insane.

I think I would've preferred prison.

Apparently I strangled her as well. That would explain her blue face and rolled up eyes. And my sore thumbs.

I don't know why I killed her (if I did) because I'm normally a rather laidback person. Okay, I'm lazy. Whatever the fuck you wanna call it. But anyway, it's not like me to do anything I would term as troublesome (which is everything bar sleeping and occasionally eating). And it's not really in my nature to do anything drastic (and what could be more drastic than killing a person?).

So now I'm in this shithole.

My room sucks. The entertainment sucks. The clothes suck. The guards suck. The 'doctors' suck. Now I'm at my first meal. And guess what? The food sucks.

Yep. I'm gonna hate it here.

As I stared glumly at my plate of slop (I think pigs get fed better), someone sat opposite me. I instinctively looked up. It was blonde. It had blue eyes. It had a really weird hairstyle. It was female. It was attractive. It was grinning.

"You're new here."

It spoke.

Wow, she had a sexy voice.

Hey, I might be lazy, but I do notice these things.

Just like I noticed that the grin was rather unnerving.

"What're you in for?" she asked. I shrugged.

"Apparently I murdered someone."

Her laugh was pretty nice too.

"Apparently? Well, is it a yes or a no?" She sounded amused. I shrugged again.

"Who the fuck knows? All the evidence points to yes, so I probably did, but I can't remember. And you?" This was fucking crazy. We were carrying this conversation on as if we were discussing what we had for dinner the night before.

She casually lifted one shoulder and let it drop. "Oh, I murdered some people."

I started. "More than one? How many?"

That creepy grin was back.

"Three. On my own."

I couldn't imagine killing three people. Although, I couldn't even imagine killing one person, and it seemed I had.

"I got caught on the last one. I guess we might have gone a little overboard," she continued.

I squinted at her. "I thought you said you worked alone."

"I do," she replied, "But this one was a special hit."

"Hit?" I laughed, "You talk like you're an assassin. Who was it?"

"My father," she replied casually.

My next sentence died in my throat. Who the fuck was messed up enough to kill their _family?_

She caught sight of the face, and the disbelief/horror I was feeling must have shown on my face because she smirked at me.

"Oh, don't look so revolted," she told me, "He was a fucking bastard anyway."

…I'm guessing they didn't have the best relationship, then.

"But I didn't do much. Gaara was the one who really fucked him up. Which is actually a good thing. Gaara had the most anger." This was too fucked up for words.

"Who's Gaara?" I just had to ask.

"My little brother. He's also here. But he's in the high security wing," she answered.

"High security?" She had killed three- four people and _he _was in high security?

She nodded. "Yeah. They've got him in a straitjacket and muzzle, because he really went over the edge and freaked out. On bad days they tend to feed him through an intravenous injection because if they take the muzzle off he tries to bite them. But he's really a great guy."

I think by that point I was leaning away slightly. Can you really blame me?

I snorted. "I'm sure. So you two killed your father together?" I didn't know I was so morbid, but I wanted to know more.

"Well, Kankurou too. But he didn't do too much, and besides, he didn't have a history, so he's just in prison with conspiracy to commit. I think he's getting out on parole soon. He's still getting counseling from the same doctor as Gaara and I, even though Baki is actually affiliated with the institute."

"And who's Kankurou?" I just knew what the answer was gonna be…

"My other brother." …and I was right. Yep.

What a supremely fucked up family.

"So… I'm guessing Gaara also had a history?" I should've really stopped asking questions. I really should've. But their story fascinated me. She fascinated me.

"Well… yeah. He ripped a few people up. I mean, what I did was plain in comparison."

"What did you do?"

Her grin grew even more creepy and sadistic. "I cut their heads off and stuffed them. Put them on the mantelpiece. Like hunting trophies." She leant forward on her elbows, locking eyes with me and licking her lips slightly. "Your head would look real good up there."

I almost fell off my chair, shooting it backwards, trying to put some distance between her and I.

"What the fuck, woman!" I yelled, "You're fucking insane!"

Her grin didn't change an inch. "That's why we're in here, isn't it?"

I pressed myself to the back of my chair, still fighting the urge to get up and run away from her.

She laughed; a loud, boisterous, psychotic laugh, as it sounded to my ears.

"God, you're so obviously fresh. That shouldn't freak you out, boy. There are people in here who've done worse."

"None of them have threatened me," I pointed out, still slightly spooked.

"I didn't threaten you. Besides, I didn't actually stuff any heads. It was a joke. I mean, I contemplated it, but the idea only occurred on my last kill, and he was really ugly. And you wouldn't want that hanging around forever." She was smirking, suppressing a laugh, I could see.

Fucking bitch.

"Then what did you do?" I think it's a human thing. Like when there's a horrific accident; everyone wants to be in the front. And once you're there and see the wreckage and bodies and blood or whatever, you can't stand to watch but you can't bear to look away.

"I stabbed them."

How can stabbing someone classify a person as mental? If that were the case it would be most of the people in our criminal system.

"I love the feeling of the blood running over my hands. I love how it looks, the colour. I love the smell of blood. I love the taste of blood," she continued dreamily.

Oh. There's how.

"How'd you end up in here?" I had to ask. I just had to.

She tilted her head to the side, looking damn cute doing it. "I'm not entirely sure. I was pleading guilty, my lawyer was pleading insanity. Guess who the jury sided with?"

…Pleading guilty. That explained it, really.

"I'm Temari, by the way," she said suddenly. Huh. I'd forgotten about that part of formalities.

"Shikamaru," I replied.

"Shikamaru." She rolled my name around in her mouth, tasting every syllable. I'd never liked my name more than when she said it.

She suddenly grinned. "Tell you what, Shikamaru, I'll help you get your footing around here. I'll be your… guide of sorts."

I blinked, surprised. "Um…Okay." I still wasn't going into dark corners with her. Not if there were any sharp objects around.

"Great. Now, you might want to know some of the inmates. That one over there," She pointed to a hyperactive looking blonde. "Is Naruto. He's a good guy, really, just don't piss him off. He has this alter ego thing going on- he calls it his 'inner monster'- and when he gets aggravated he attacks like an animal. Bites people's throats out. The goons- formally known as guards- always keep a wary eye on him." She was right. The guards- goons were keeping an eye on him. I can understand why.

"That's Shino, the drug contact. If you want anything, he can get it for you. Just don't insult bugs." She indicated a guy who seemed to have altered the uniform slightly, pulling the collar up over his lower face. And he was wearing these strange goggle-like sunglasses.

"Why would that be a problem?" It seemed pretty odd.

"He's obsessive. That's why he's in here. He flipped and killed a bug collector- you know, one of those who pin the bugs to boards- and stuffed the man's entire collection down his throat." I winced. That sounded nasty.

"That's Sai." A pale guy. "If anyone's emotionally stunted, it's him. Socially retarded, too. But he paints the most amazing pictures. He uses ink now, but I can only imagine what his other works looked like."

"What did he use then?" If she answers paint, I'm going to hit myself over the head.

"His victims' blood." Shoulda figured it wasn't anything normal.

"That's Sakura." She pointed out one of the very few women that I could see. "She needs anger management. She just kinda flipped out and killed one or two people with her bare hands, I think."

Ouch.

"She's got a thing for one of the guys in the manic depression wing. More commonly known as Suicide Watch. His name's Sasuke. Killed his brother. Personally I think that their doctor should be in here himself. Naruto's mentioned that he has all these emotional problems and background issues, but controls them well. Sai wouldn't notice anything anyway, so we can't go to him for a second opinion."

Mental mental doctors. That makes perfect sense.

"Tenten." A woman with two buns. "She's obsessed with weapons."

I didn't ask for her to elaborate. I wasn't sure I wanted to know.

"That's Hinata. She has a thing for Naruto." The pale-eyed woman sitting by Shino was staring at Naruto. Pretty obvious. "But Naruto's an idiot so he hasn't clicked yet." She paused. "I don't actually know what she's in for. She doesn't speak much."

"That's surprising. You seem to know everything about everyone around here," I commented. She grinned.

"That's because we're like one large, dysfunctional family."

Dysfunctional is right.

"Who's your doctor?" she asked. I racked my brains, trying to remember the name on the sheet that was given to me.

"Some guy called Asuma," I said slowly. She nodded.

"Ah, the smoker. You're sharing him with Chouji." She pointed to a heavyset man snacking on some chips. I recognized the name.

"I think I'm sharing a room with him too. What's he in for?" If I was gonna be living with the guy, I wanted to know.

She shrugged. "I think someone called him fat. And he flipped, and then decided that since meat was so expensive, he could just eat the guy. But he's the sweetest, kindest, gentlest person you will ever meet," she assured me.

Oh, yeah, I'm sure. _He fucking ate someone!_

For the rest of the day she showed me the little nooks and crannies of the hospital, introduced me to some people and explained the 'team' counseling system to me. It seemed that each doctor had three patients (aside from Kakashi, who had four- Naruto, Sasuke, Sakura and Sai) from different wings around the institute and that in addition to your meeting you had with your doctor every week day, you had a group, or 'team', counseling session every Saturday. She liked it because her 'team' was her and her brothers, so she got to see them every week. I didn't know what to expect. She also told me that we were in the medium risk ward. I didn't know why I was here until she said that it was also known as Murderer's Row because they lumped pretty much all the murderers here. Aside from those like her brother, who was in high security.

When we were told to go to our rooms (I felt like a two year old who'd drawn on his father's important work documents) I went with trepidation to meet my cannibalistic roommate.

He was sitting on his bed, snacking on some more chips. He looked up when I entered.

"You're the newbie. Hi. Chouji Akimichi." He held out his hand, and I shook it hesitantly.

"Shikamaru Nara." He seemed alright.

He heaved a sigh and shook his head. "I saw you hanging around Temari at lunch. She probably told you why I'm here."

"Uh…yeah," I admitted. "She said you'd eaten someone."

He flashed a grin. "Tastes like ostrich." Then his face grew solemn again.

"You're jumping right into the deep end with that one," he told me.

"Who, Temari?" I asked.

He nodded. "If you're not careful she'll eat you up and spit out the bones. Not quite as literally as I did," Small smile. "but nonetheless. She rules this place."

"I got that feeling from her," I acknowledged, sitting down on my bed.

He gave me a few tips Temari had neglected to tell me, and when I went to sleep that night, I was relaxed. He really was a gentle person. Aside from the whole eating a person thing, but he seemed to be over that now. We became fast friends pretty quickly.

One thing I found out about the institute was that as long as no-one killed anyone else, and you went to see your doctor when you were supposed to, you could pretty much do what you wanted. Seeing as most people were in here for life or longer- or until they were 'cured', which was pretty much the same thing, people grew close and knew everyone. As Temari had said, the institute was like one large, dysfunctional family.

--

I dreamed about killing her that night. The bitch.

I was back in the room, and she was provoking me again. And I snapped. I grabbed her throat and squeezed with relish, watching her choke, her hands scrabbling uselessly at mine, my knuckles turning white from the effort I was putting into it. Her lips turned blue and her eyes rolled backwards into her head as she struggled for breath. I dropped her and she gasped for breath, but I had a knife in my hand and I slashed out before her lips lost their blue tint, I cut her in the stomach and she dropped to the floor screaming. I was on her in a second, strangling her, choking her again, shouting words unintelligible to my ears. She went limp as her oxygen ran out; her eyes rolled upwards, her entire face had a sickly blue sheen. I stabbed her; in the heart, in the throat, again in the stomach, deep stabs, blood flowing out.

And then I was standing back from her, seeing only her back as she lay lifelessly on the floor. I was panting, panting from the exertion, my arms hanging limply at my side, the knife not there anymore.

The blood looked like shadows, soaking into the carpet.

Then she turned around and stood up, only it wasn't her, it was Temari and she was fine, she wasn't hurt, she wasn't dead, and she was holding a shining silver knife.

She was grinning.

She came towards me, stood right in front of me, and stabbed. I looked down, saw her hand holding the knife sticking in my stomach, saw my blood running out the wound, but I didn't feel it, I was fine, I wasn't dying, I was still alive, it didn't hurt. I saw her twist the blade and take it out, covered in blood, but I still didn't feel it, it didn't hurt and she brought the knife up to her face and I followed it with my eyes and her eyes were sparkling and she was grinning and she brought the knife up to her face and she licked it, she licked the blood my blood off the blade and the dark red on her tongue fascinated me as she curled it into her mouth and I didn't feel anything, it didn't hurt, I was fine.

Then she dropped the knife and kissed me and I could taste my blood in her mouth and she tasted so good, and she felt so good and I didn't want this to end, I didn't ever want it to end.

She fiddled with my clothes and I fumbled with hers, feeling as inept as a virgin schoolboy. And then they were off and she was beautiful, oh god, she was beautiful. She was an angel. No; she was a demon, a beautiful seductive demon and I couldn't get enough.

It wasn't a nightmare.

--

The next day, I met my doctor and my 'team'. Asuma was alright. He smoked a lot, and gave me a cigarette. The third one of my team was a girl from the low risk wing. Her name was Ino, and she was a vapid little cow. But she was okay.

That day, Temari showed me her room. She had somehow managed to get her own room, proving Chouji was right: she ruled this place.

It was a nice room, I think. I didn't pay much attention to it. I had my mind on other things.

We spend a lot of time in her room.

--

I've come to the conclusion that everyone in the institution are really normal, functioning individuals, and I'm just as sane as the rest of them.

-END-

**A/N: Yeah. I scare myself. But I hope you enjoyed it. Liked it. Thought it was good. If it freaked you out, please feel free to say so. If you think I'm a nutter, please feel free to say so too. Oh; Gaara. There's this one picture on deviantART which is pretty much exactly how I imagined him here. The link is up on my profile page, so you can just go there and check it out. It's brilliant. So anyway, yeah, the counseling 'teams' are structured as the teams in Naruto are (although who would make Gai a counselor for the criminally insane, I don't know, but whatever) and yes, there would be more people in there, but I don't know who they are and I don't know what anyone else did****, but there they are. I don't know who Shikamaru killed (she's sort of an unnamed random) and I don't know who she killed (another unnamed random), they were just necessary for the story.**

**Anyway, please please please leave a review and tell me what you thought, because, as with Phantom but then again not, this is very much different from anything else I've written.**


	2. Youth Of Delight

**Youth Of Delight**

Why is this place so fucking _normal_? It's a fucking institute for the criminally insane, it shouldn't be so fucking normal! _I shouldn't fit in so well!_

I don't know what to think anymore. I don't want to think anymore. It's too fucking confusing.

I think I've lived more in the week since I was condemned to this place then I have in the rest of my sad, sad existence.

Whether I can chalk that up to laziness and the arrival of a force that, in all honesty, it was easier to say yes to, is… fact. It's not debatable. It's truth.

I wouldn't say she motivates me- I don't think she does- but…

Let's try put this in a way that you'd understand.

She's like a fucking whirlwind.

She does things in such a way that even though you have a choice, you have no say in the matter, the deed is done before you even register that you can say no.

But if you did have time to think about it, I doubt you'd say no anyway. Now, contradicting her is the very definition of troublesome.

Although a very small, masochistic part of me loves it. Contradicting her, that is.

I _was_ judged insane, remember.

So… I don't know whether I regret… anything. I don't know what I should be regretting. I don't know if there is anything _to _regret.

My mind is so fucked up right now. I can't think. I don't want to think.

This is bliss.

Cruel, sadistic fucking bliss.

I looked around for her as I entered the dining hall. Not intentionally, of course (I am such a fucking pathetic liar), just… because. Habit. She tends to creep up on one unexpectedly, and in such a place as this someone sneaking up on you can age you prematurely from pure fright. Please keep in mind that most of the people in this place are unstable fucking psychos. Or stable psychos. Whatever. They're all slightly touched. That's the point.

Anyway.

I found her quickly- her hairstyle tends to stick out.

She was leaning on a table talking to Bugb- Shino. I saw her look towards the guard and then lean in closer to Shino.

Yeah, I was jealous. No need to be so fucking smug about it.

She had something in her hand which he took and pocketed, replacing it with something else. She saw me, grinned and winked, shaking the packet at me.

I got a bad feeling. A really bad feeling.

This woman was going to screw me over, fuck me up and mess with my mind supremely.

Why did I not feel more trepidation? More dislike? More _fear_?

Yeah, I'm a masochistic fucking bastard.

And you know what? I'm okay with that.

So, put Shino and discreetly passed packages together and you get only one answer: drugs. What kind, I had no fucking idea.

And throw Temari in the mix, and I reckoned I was gonna get dragged into the whole mess.

Which was further proved by the fact that she was heading in my direction.

Now, call me a wuss if you want, but I'd never tried drugs before, for a few reasons. Mainly being that the whole scene was troublesome. Trying to avoid being caught (by law enforcement or my mother) was troublesome, the aftereffects sounded troublesome, addiction sounded too fucking troublesome for words and having to do the whole sneaky back street under the table route to acquire the stuff in the first place was a form of troublesome I could do without.

But I digress. Drugs is a business I'd like to stay out of. I mean, murdering a person is one thing (and I can't really remember killing her anyway) but drugs? Yeah, they fuck with your mind. Killing a person doesn't, just with your fucking _freedom _should you be unlucky enough to be caught.

"Shikamaru, baby, there you are," she purred as she got near. She had that dangerous glint in her eyes. Well, to be honest, it hardly ever left.

"Right here," I confirmed dryly, hiding the nervousness I was sure would show in my voice quite well, even if I do say so myself.

"Are you really hungry, or did you just come in here looking for little old me?" she asked coyly. I could tell she wanted it to be the latter, not necessarily because of vanity, but she wanted to get out there, away from the guard.

And as usual, I complied.

"I could never be hungry for this slop," I told her. Which was the truth. The food was truly nauseating.

Her lips curled in an anticipatory grin and her tongue traced the edge of her teeth. (Please, feel free to take a minute to envision that in your mind. Can you see it? If you don't think it's scary, that's not what it looked like.)

"How fortunate. Shall we?" She motioned towards the door, and we headed toward it.

"Now, I'm not going to insult your intelligence by telling you what I was doing in the dining room," Temari said, kicking her shoes off and jumping onto her bed.

"I don't think I want to try drugs," I told her straight out.

She looked at me and I knew that I was going to end up taking the drug, no matter what I said. I was still going to try, though.

"Shikamaru, how can you say you've lived if you refuse to come out of your safe, comfortable shell?" she asked.

"I'm in an institute for the criminally insane for brutally murdering someone. I think that'd classify as coming out of my safe, comfortable shell," I pointed out. She shrugged it off easily.

"Not really. You didn't really have a choice in ending up in here, and when you killed her you weren't in control, so it hardly counts. I meant making a conscious decision."

"That is why I'd prefer remaining in control," I replied.

"You'd still be in control." Her head fell back and she seemed to be talking to the ceiling. She gave a small snort of laughter. "Maybe not of all your senses, but- really, who cares if you're in control or not? I can tell you're not the type to kill someone when you're happy, and it's E, so you will be happy. Very, very happy." She looked at me again with a small grin.

Ooh, she was good.

But I wasn't giving up.

"You know, there's this song I remember hearing. It starts off saying something along the lines of 'Johnny's conscience is on his mind again. The drugs of joy have all worn off again'. That whole situation doesn't seem to appeal to me, Temari," I told her.

"Doesn't it?" she asked. "Let's put it this way, Shikamaru. Is _your _conscience on your mind? Has it been lately? Do you think it will be anytime soon?"

Conscience, conscience. Hmm… conscience… Yeah, I seem to be missing that piece of programming.

Damnit.

"No. My conscience is on permanent leave." I sighed. "I have no more arguments."

I didn't.

"You're scared," She said suddenly.

"Scared? No, I'm not," I defended hurriedly.

"You are. I can see it in your eyes. I've seen the look a few times, normally right before I kill the person. Yours is a milder version, but the fear is still there." She crawled towards me and stood up on her knees, bringing herself level with me. She draped her arms over my shoulders. "What's the matter, Shikamaru?" she purred, "Don't you trust me? Don't you believe I'll take care of you?"

"I don't know," I replied.

She laughed and dropped her head down, her one hand dropping down and then running over her face. Her head came up and before I registered anything she surged forward and kissed me. As she kissed me, I could feel two small pills rolling from her mouth into mine and back again, dissolving all the while. She held the back of my neck, preventing me from backing away. And just so you know, she has a grip like iron.

As soon as I could, I jerked backwards, breaking the kiss. She grinned at me, her eyes sparkling. The drug had already dissolved.

"You bitch," I said hoarsely.

She simply laughed and licked her lips. "You'll thank me later," she told me confidently.

"You fucking bitch," I repeated.

She rolled her eyes at me, leaning back on her elbows. "You have about half an hour to reconcile yourself with the fact, Shikamaru. And then you might as well enjoy it. And don't call me a bitch again, it's old news, and gets rather tedious."

I didn't know whether to be mad or thankful.

"You know you wanted to, anyway. But you weren't going to build up the courage on your own."

I swear, she'd make a better shrink than most of the doctors here.

I sank down in the chair, shaking my head.

She got up and went to the door, locking it, before moving to the heating unit and turning it up. I don't know why, as it wasn't exactly a cold day. She then went to her sound system (I don't know where she got that. I don't know how she got that. I don't know if I want to know how or where she got that. But I want one) and put in some music I would expect to hear at a trance party. You know, one of those three day, nonstop music and dancing parties? I had friends who loved them and would go and come back after three days filthy and sore. I politely declined their invitations to join.

But anyway, back to the music. It was loud- it was a really good sound system- and the beat was throbbing through my entire body. It was surprisingly nice.

I watched as she allowed her head to drop and her arms to hang, and she started to pulse on the balls of her feet, obviously losing herself in the music.

The heat was getting to me, and I pulled at the collar of the regulation t-shirt, starting to feel uncomfortably warm.

The bass thump of the music dissipated briefly as the electronic overtones twinkled through. And then the heavy beat returned abruptly after a second of complete silence. Temari started bouncing in time to the steady bass, a definite emphasis on the down beat. My fingers twitched. I felt like I needed to do something, felt like I had energy building up in my body that needed to be released.

The blonde witch turned and grinned at me, small droplets of sweat starting to form on her forehead.

"C'mon, Shikamaru. Come dance," she invited, resting on the balls of her feet momentarily.

I shook my head, even though I felt like I should, even if it was just to get rid of the excess energy I suddenly found myself with. I was jumpy. "I don't dance," I told her.

She smirked at me slyly from hooded eyes. "You're all wound up. I know that you just need to do something. You know that you need to dance," she purred enticingly.

It had to be the drug. I'd never researched any drugs or anything, and I didn't know anyone who did them. Okay, I did. But I never asked about it, never acknowledged it, and never saw them being done. And distanced myself from those people. So I didn't know what the effects were or anything- but I knew that the excess energy had to be a by-product of the drug. I _never _had excess energy. Ever. Most of the time I couldn't be bothered to have any energy at all, let alone _excess_ energy. But I was… I was almost twitching. I was unbelievably restless.

She bounced over to me and grabbed my hand. "Come on."

"No. Just on principle. I'm not gonna dance," I replied.

She leaned in close to me, her mouth hovering by my ear. "Dance. For me," she whispered.

"Temari, I don't want to-" I started, but she yanked me out of my chair before I could finish.

"It'll be fun," she said, grinning at me. She began dancing again. I just stood there, unsure of what to do with myself. Despite everything I'd said, and that I truly detested dancing, my feet began bouncing with the steady vibrations that reverberated through the soles of my feet.

I couldn't believe it. I was actually dancing. Without someone holding a gun to my head. Although I wouldn't put that past Temari, actually. But that's completely beside the point. I was dancing because I wanted to. No, I lie. I still didn't want to dance. But I had to. I needed to.

I was dancing- although I don't know if you can really call bouncing up and down repeatedly on one stop dancing- and grinding my teeth.

You know when you're really cold, and your jaw clenches, with your teeth locked together? That's kinda what it felt like. Except I was grinding my teeth as well. And I was far from cold.

And I felt less cynical than I had in a helluva long time. No, I'm talking like. Since I was in diapers. In that long of a time. I felt… lovey. I mean, talk about an out of body experience. That was less like me than the dancing. I'm not a particularly affectionate person. In fact, I have been described as downright thorny. By the girl I was seeing at the time, no less. Needless to say, that relationship didn't last long. Not that I really minded, she wasn't exactly an independent soul. Not particularly bright either. Anyway, that was a complete non-sequitur.

I have to assume it was the drug that made me feel overly filled with love and affection for everyone and everything, and that spurred the ridiculous urge to hug whatever was closest. And that bass was still reverberating through me, channeling through my very bones- who'd never been used as speakers before so it was a new experience for them too. I still think that if Temari hadn't made her move when she did I would have embraced one of her speakers, which would have been mortifying beyond relief- and entirely her fault.

Anyway, she'd obviously tired of dancing, because while I was grinding my teeth and bouncing and possibly making googly-eyes at her stupid electronic sound transmitting devices, the she-devil turned and pressed herself up against me, mashing her mouth up against mine and sliding her hands up my shirt.

As annoyed with her as I was, I responded enthusiastically because- honestly? It was exactly what I needed. My brain latched on to sex as the best solution to my problems. Kept my mouth busy, fulfilled my need to embrace something and used up energy through vigorous exercise.

And as an aside, gave me an excuse to get rid of my god-awful clothes which were stifling in this ridiculously over-heated room.

So she tore my shirt off and I tore hers off and… well, I'm sure you know how the process goes.

It was sweaty and sticky and frenetic and bestial and surprisingly cathartic. It was certainly better than a speaker. Not that I would have fucked the speaker, because that would just be plain weird.

I don't know how long it took before the drug wore off, or we exhausted ourselves- I don't know which came first.

Maybe Chouji was right. Maybe she would chew me up and spit me out. I could certainly believe it. I'm going to need therapy after her (which is funny, because, you know, I'm in a mental hospital- nevermind. Whatever.).

"Please turn off the goddamn heater," I mumbled, leaning against the cool wall. Which probably wasn't that cool, but it certainly felt good against my sweat-drenched abnormally overheated skin. "I feel like I'm in the middle of the fucking sun."

Yeah, I really thought giggling was associated with innocence -or immaturity- but the sound that just emerged from that wicked, tempting, bruised mouth of hers was far from either- and yet unmistakeably a giggle.

She sat up (although that sounds too harsh a term to describe the way she languidly pulled herself up into a slouching sitting position) and stretched like a cat, luxuriating in the aftermath, and looking like she got both the canary and the cream.

Yea verily, the queen reigns victorious.

Fucking bitch.

"So, thanking me yet?" she all but purred, padding across the room to the heat control (Thank God).

"Not quite," I replied, only fractionally lying. "I would say that I hate you, but the point seems kind of moot."

She laughed, the sound ringing out like a death peal of bells. Because apparently great sex and scary women turn me into a poet- which has to be the best reason to become one, in all honesty.

"No kidding," she replied, a sly, smug, satisfied smile floating under her drowsy, lidded eyes. "But you can't tell me you didn't enjoy it."

She is so not good for my health. And I hate that I really don't care. I mean, really, where is my sense of self-preservation? Same place as my conscience, I suppose.

I didn't reply, just half stared, half glared at her.

"Oh, don't be like that, Mr. Grumpy," she teased, sliding next to me.

"I reserve the right to be moody. You essentially forced narcotics down my throat and proceeded to take advantage of me in my drug-addled state of mind," I replied. I knew what she wanted. I knew she was trying to get me to initiate it, because that would mean that she won. Again.

"But you liked it," she purred into my ear, giving my neck a little lick.

I groaned and crushed my lips to hers, easing her back and pinning her to the bed, as a purring rumble of satisfaction vibrated in her throat.

I couldn't win. I couldn't argue. And I was maybe more annoyed with myself than with her, because honestly? I felt I should mind more.

-tbc-

**A/N: Okay, so maybe the writing mood of this chapter changed half way through the chapter. That's what comes of leaving it for practically a year. BUT I FINISHED! Which is a good thing for me. I promised I'd give you more of Asylum Kids, and I have. That's one thing I can tick off my writing commitments. **

**The end part was going to be hot and explicit and sexy-and then I got awkward and opted to gloss it over. Maybe because I was writing the next part on the back of my question paper in my exam because I finished about an hour early and I needed to write because I am VERY far behind schedule- but I'll catch up.**

**The song lyrics referenced are a song called 'Johnny' by The Asylum Kids (I just went with a general theme after I used their name as the story title) who were a South African band during the apartheid era who apparently wrote songs that were not approved by the government so they got no radio time and then dissolved which is why NO-ONE has heard of them. I know them because my dad (who was party age when they were around) lent me their cd which is kinda because my closest friend when I was very young is the daughter of the guy who was the drummer. The chapter titles of this story are also all songs of theirs. They actually have a very different, reallt interesting, really cool music style- I think there might be a clip on youtube (I don't know how but I saw it) of their song 'Fight it with your mind'. So if you're interested, look up 'Fight it with your mind' by the Asylum Kids on youtube and you should have a taste. Maybe. I don't know. They're good, though. Like nothing I've ever heard before. **

**And then I think I was going to say something else but I can't remember. So I will leave you with a 'I hope you enjoyed it, I hope you aren't too pissed about the length of time it took (sorry), thank you very much for reading, and I would love to know what you thought, so please review.'**

**And now you can go onto the next chapter =)**


	3. We Are The Ones

**We Are The Ones**

Just looking around this place, I can see that there are many different people and the reasons that they are in here are varied. Most of the people that I know _why _they are here are in medium risk- Murderers Row, for obvious reasons- I'm here. Of course, I've come to learn about other patients in other wards- not everyone, of course.

But the people in here… well, there's few that I know.

There's those that I heard about or met on my first day: Sasuke, the suicidal brother-killer. Chouji, the gentle cannibal. Temari, the blood enthusiast. Sai, the socially retarded blood artist. Naruto, the schizophrenic 'monster' carrier. Sakura, the one who needs anger management. Shino, the bug obsessed drug peddler. Tenten, the weapon fanatic. Hinata, the mystery. Gaara, the rabid psycho.

Then there are those who I've discovered during my stay: Ino, the vapid shoplifter with an eating disorder (she refused to divulge any more information).

Neji, cousin of Hinata, obsessed with the idea of hate and destiny. I think he ate his victims' eyeballs? I don't know. He's kept in high risk because he hates his cousin for some reason, and I think has threatened her. In my opinion, it's as much for his own protection as well as hers, because I've bumped into him once and living with that stuck-up, self-righteous bastard for any length of time would make me want to kill him. And I'm one of the more stable ones (even if I do say so myself).

Then there's Kiba, the dog lover. He kinda acts like a dog sometimes. With full on growling and stuff. I'm a little hazy on the details, but I think he went after animal abusers. Dog abusers, more specifically. Killed them like a dog. Now how a dog would be killed, but how a dog would kill. He ripped them to shreds. I actually think I remember reading about 'Dogboy' (media name) in the papers. I never thought I'd end up in the same place as him.

Then- Lee. He's an interesting case. He accompanies Sasuke in the manic depressive ward, but to meet him you would never think it. He seems to be the happiest person in the world. He's constantly smiling- but at the same time, he never smiles. He's obsessive compulsive as well. He wants to defeat his depression, so he models himself on who he believes is the happiest man in the world- his psychologist. I don't know how wise that is, because I don't think that man is entirely right in the head himself. Anyway, Lee's OCD is that he is obsessed with being the best he can be. He will work himself into the ground if not watched carefully. I think that hard exercise might also be his way of staving off the depression, so much so that it became an OCD. It's not healthy how much that man pushes himself. I'm not entirely sure why he's in here. I think it has something to do with alcohol. Yeah, I think it was drunken public indecency and malicious damage of public and private property. I don't know. His false, forced, over-exuberant cheeriness kinda scares me. It's too forceful.

I've come to the conclusion that all the people in the institution are really normal, functioning individuals, and I'm just as sane as the rest of them.

-END-

**A/N: And this is the very end. What started out as an oneshot is now a 3 chaptered fic. I hope you're happy! Lol, that sounds so accusing XD. So, yeah, this chapter was just the psychological state of those who have not been mentioned yet. Obviously, there would be many more people in other wards and risk levels in the institute, but please keep in mind that this is in Shikamaru's POV, which means that these are the people he knows about. It's like being in a school- you don't know everyone. You don't know their stories. **

**The fact that it's in Shikamaru's POV is also my excuse as to why most of the inmates' psyches' aren't explored in depth. It's all sort of word-of-mouth some of the story. Because that's how people know things. '^^**

**Lol, I'm actually writing this chapter before I've finished 2- Youth Of Delight. Because I was waiting on time to ask my parents about drugs. That was essential information for the previous chapter.**

**But anyway, I hope you've enjoyed this trip into the institute for the criminally insane with all its murderous occupants.**

**Please, please review!**

**EDIT: from when I actually finished the previous chapter: 9 Nov 2010: don't have much else to say- I said it all in last chapter's A/N. It took so long because there was the whole thing with my laptop dying then final year of school then broken brain then no laptop then getting distracted by internet and teamstarkid (speaking of which, Darren Criss' first episode of Glee airs tonight in USA and I'm going to watch it tomorrow and him singing 'Teenage Dream' is amazing (and brought Katy Perry to tears) and then I saw a picture someone had taken of one of the promo vids and just about melted right there in my chair so I'm excited =D) and yeah. But I finished at last.**

**This chapter is ridiculously short even if you don't compare it to the other ridiculously long other chapters. In fact… okay, the A/N is shorter than the chapter, but only just. **

**Please review! (P.S: The rest of 'Asylum Kids: Inmates' Profiles' should be coming soon!)**


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